


'tis almost-fairy time

by afterandalasia



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Background Poly, Being a Fairy in Auradon is Particularly Bad, But the Isle of the Lost is Worse, Crossover, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Gwyllion, Lily | Lilith Page and Mal (Disney) are Half-Siblings, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Magic, United States of Auradon (Disney) Is Not Perfect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 21:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14724308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: Dear Mal,You probably haven’t heard of me, but I’m hoping to take this opportunity to let you know. My name is Lily, and I’m your sister.





	'tis almost-fairy time

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [this country is a time bomb exploding (where's my popcorn?)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394666) by [screaminginternally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/screaminginternally/pseuds/screaminginternally). 



> I have been mulling on this idea for so dang long, you don't even know. I just wanted to see these two interact.
> 
> Pulling bits and pieces from various branches of Disney, and from Welsh folklore. (Gwyllion are a Welsh type of fairy.)
> 
> The idea of Starlight Valley and a fae exodus has been created and developed, in amazing style, by screaminginternally in their [Jane-centric series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/726393). I cannot recommend it enough, it's great worldbuilding and skilfully written as well.

The message came in the middle of Enchanted Forestry. It was poor Jane who had to come in and deliver it, of course, Professor Melinda pausing in the middle of her discussion with a polite smile but an annoyed flick of her tail. Centaurs did tend to be easier to read them humans.

 All the same, whatever Jane had to say, Melinda accepted it and waved for Jane to go on up the steps of the auditorium. Although Melinda started talking again, Mal’s attention certainly was not on her, and she doubted that much of anyone else’s was, either. Jane hurried up the stairs, and Mal looked up with a frown as the girl stopped right in front of her desk.

“Ben asked me to come and get you,” she said, in an undertone which probably would have worked had people not been very obviously trying to listen in.

Mal glared at them, letting her eyes flash green, and most of them hurriedly looked away again.

Jane ignored the blatant display of magic, which Mal had to admit she appreciated, and cleared her throat instead. “He’s waiting in his office for you,” she added.

On one hand, it meant that she was going to have to wait to find out what was going on. On the other, at least half the class wasn’t going to hear as well. Mal started packing up her things, reminding herself that this was _Auradon_ and she should do so _quietly_ so as not to cause disruption, and was most of the way done before she realised that Evie had packed up her things as well.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

“Moral support,” said Evie, quietly and sweetly and with the smile on her face which they both knew full well that Mal could not say no to.

Besides, Evie could get away with saying things about Mal that Mal would never be able to admit about herself. Like the fact that a summons in the middle of a class, with no explanation, was not something that Ben would usually do and had nerves strumming up and down Mal’s spine.

“How do you know I haven’t done something to deserve this?” she settled for saying quietly.

Evie was still smiling, that perfect look she had where Mal was sure that even if paparazzi popped out of nowhere, Evie would look _perfect_ while Mal would be looking like some scowly gremlin. Not that she really minded the scowly gremlin look in person, but it was different when it was in the press.

“Because you’d have boasted to me about it,” Evie replied.

Well, she probably had a point on that one.

They took the staircase at the edge of the auditorium, and Mal tried to ignore both the nervousness in her gut and the desire to turn and snarl at people for their stares. On the Isle, getting called out of class like this would be something of a badge of honour, but considering how much that was _not_ the case in Auradon she would rather not have this right now. Especially not all that long after everything that had happened with Uma.

Jane’s shoes clicked on the polished floor of the hallway, louder even than Evie’s heels, and each tap was like another little drip of acid on Mal’s nerves. “We know the way to Ben’s office,” she said, as kindly as she could manage. “You can get back to your day.”

“Ben asked me to accompany you all the way back.” At least Jane’s little glance over her shoulder looked apologetic. “Sorry.”

Mal gritted her teeth, at least until Evie slipped a hand into her hers. A slight squeeze, and she felt some of the tension seeping out of her shoulders again, her steps turning from Isle-style stalking to a more relaxed pace.

It still seemed far too great a distance to Ben’s room, though, and Jane rapped on the door before pushing it straight open. “Ben? Mal and Evie are here.”

She stepped back, nodded nervously, and then all but fled.

Evie gave Mal’s hand another squeeze as they entered the room. Ben was standing behind his desk, shirt rumpled and tie loosened, jacket draped over the back of his chair. “Mal,” he said, sounding relieved to see her. He hurried over and closed the door behind them. “I’m sorry, I just figured you ought to get this as soon as possible.”

“Get what?” said Mal.

She would blame it wholly on how weird Jane, and now Ben, had been acting that it was only at about that moment that she realised there was a raven on Ben’s desk. It was perching on the back of his light, regarding them all very calmly and – unusually, in Mal’s experience of ravens – had not taken the opportunity to shit everywhere.

What her mother had seen in the creatures, she had never known.

“A message arrived for you,” said Ben. He strode back to his desk. Sure, he usually walked quickly, but there was something hurried and flustered about him that Mal was much less used to seeing nowadays. He picked up a scroll from his desk, a small, tight roll of very fine paper, sealed with a single black thread, then a second piece which had actually been unrolled. “The outer one was addressed to me, with a request to make sure that the second one got to you.”

“What’s it about?” said Mal, as he pressed the rolled-up into her hand.

Ben took a deep breath. “I think it’s better if you read it yourself.”

He gave him a sharp look, aware that annoyance and concern were probably warring in it, then released Evie’s hand and went to unroll the letter.

“Sit down, first,” said Evie,

“You’re such a pair of mother geese,” Mal mumbled, but allowed herself to be tugged over to the windowseat. She dropped her bag to the ground and flopped down; Evie immediately sat close beside her, looping her arm around Mal’s, while Ben sat more carefully opposite and put his hand on Mal’s knee.

“I think the term is mother hens,” Ben said.

“Nope. Definitely getting into goose territory.”

Before either of them could delay her any further, she undid the knot in one quick tug and unrolled the letter. It was written in cramped, messy handwriting which felt more than a bit familiar, but she did not spare much more than a glance for it before words began to catch her attention, and her heart leapt into her throat.

The first one that managed to catch her eye was _mother_. Hastily, she looked back up to the top, to read the letter properly.

> _Dear Mal,_
> 
> _You probably haven’t heard of me, but I’m hoping to take this opportunity to let you know. My name is Lily, and I’m your sister._

“Sister?” Mal mumbled.

Evie’s hand tightened on her arm. “What?”

She didn’t have the spare room in her thoughts to think how Ben did not look surprised.

> _I doubt that our mother has spoken about me, and I didn’t know about you until you came to Auradon. I was already in my egg waiting to hatch when our mother went to face the Three Good Fairies and Phillip, and when I hatched and there was nobody there to look after me, my magic disguised me as a human and transported me out into the South Riding where a couple found me. Remember, this was before Auradon, before the changes, so orphans weren’t as uncommon then. They tried to find out whose I was, but when they couldn’t, they adopted me. None of us knew then who I was._

She read the paragraph twice, waiting for it to sink in. Her mother hated talking about what had happened that night, but even so, for a heartbeat Mal wondered whether her mother could really have gone sixteen years without mentioning another child.

It was only for a heartbeat, though. Of course she could have done.

“Are you okay, M?”

“She says she’s my sister,” Mal breathed.

She saw Ben and Evie exchange a glance.

> _I was in my early teens when my magic developed. My parents took me into the city of Auroria to get me checked out by one of the fairy nurses there, but the nurse realised that my magic was that of a gwyll, hidden behind a glamour of looking human, and got scared of me._
> 
> _The last gwyll in what was now Auradon had been our mother, I already knew that from primary school. I'd appeared just days after she had died, and it didn’t take long to do the math._

Unbound by oath, able to lie, and taking pleasure in hurting humans. There was a reason that gwyllion were among the more feared types of fairies, a reason why other fairies had corralled and surrounded them until their numbers had dwindled and dwindled until only Maleficent had remained.

> _I ran away before they could report me to the authorities, and I’ve been running since. I went back to old sites that used to belong to the gwyllion, ancient sites, and sought out old artefacts and texts. I studied magic, and grew good at it. I’ve not been found by magical or mundane means for over a decade now._
> 
> _I knew that if I was ever caught, I would be sent to the Isle of the Lost as well. If I’d known you were there, maybe I would have gone. Maybe we could have escaped together._
> 
> _Then the new King Ben came to the throne, and invited the four of you to Auradon. I found out that I had a sister, and I found out that our new King had forgiveness in his soul._
> 
> _It took a long time to decide how to contact you, but now that more and more of the children are being allowed over from the Isle, I decided it was the right now. I’ve written a short letter to King Ben to explain who I am and explain that I have only done magic to keep away from people, never to hurt them, and this letter for you. I wanted both to come together so there was no risk to you._
> 
> _If you’re reading this, then King Ben chose to give it to you, and he might just be as good as the stories make him sound._

She fumbled for Ben’s hand, grabbing it so tightly that, she realised after a second, it would have to be painful. She slackened her grip as much as she could bring herself to, but Ben quickly brought around his other hand to take hers as well.

> _I’d like to meet you, if you want. I’ve asked King Ben for permission to enter Auradon to do so, as well, since I’ll probably need that. I know that having a mother in common might not mean we’re all that much alike, but I figure that it can’t hurt to find out._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Lily Page_

She lowered the letter to her lap, eyes fixed on the carpet. There was a storm inside her head, magic rushing through and threatening to burst out, and Mal closed her eyes where she knew that they were glittering green.

She had a _sister_.

Well, there was a risk that it was a lie, of course, but who was going to make up a lie like that? To be a VK now was bad enough – to be the daughter of Maleficent, before Ben became King, could only have been worse. A life on the run.

Besides, if they met in the flesh it would be easy enough to tell. Like the letter had said, the last gwyll had been Maleficent. Mal, born on the Isle, looked human, but beneath glamours any gwyll born in Auradon would have their heritage plain to see.

Ben cleared his throat. “Can I tell Evie?” he said.

Mal just nodded.

“The letter to me is a short one. It’s from… Lily. Maleficent’s daughter, from before…”

“Before Phillip killed her,” said Evie bluntly.

Ben winced. “Yes. She was born before Auradon came together or the Isle was created, but as years went by… well, you know what happened with the Isle. But about ten years ago, she was discovered by the fairy community, and went on the run. She, uh…” he shifted his hands, nervously, around Mal’s. “When I became King, one of the things that I was made privy to was the fact that a dark fairy was identified in the South Riding ten years ago, but had got away and hadn’t been seen since. They didn’t say that she was Maleficent’s daughter, but…”

“But let me guess, by the time that they told you, the four of us had already arrived in Auradon,” said Mal. She opened her eyes, but kept them fixed on the floor still, still feeling the writhing of her magic like brambles beneath her skin, yearning to break free. Evie’s arm around hers, Ben’s hands around hers, were only just enough to keep her tethered. “And they didn’t want to risk word getting out that one us was the sister of the escaped dark fairy… or perhaps that the escaped dark fairy was the sister of one of us.”

“I suspect so,” said Ben. “I… I kept meaning to review all of the files about supposed evil fairy sightings because… I don’t think that many of them have actually _done_ evil things, and I don’t think we should be labelling them just for that, but… after that one report ten years ago, there was nothing about this one. I didn’t think it was high priority, I’m sorry–”

She squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Ben. You’re trying to clear up like a dozen piles of shit at once, you don’t have to apologise when somebody steps in a small one.”

Another day, he probably would have asked her not to speak about all of his father’s work like that. And, true, King Beast had done some impressive things with Auradon.

But he had also done so many terrible, stupid, petty things. And as much as Mal understood the temptation to do so, it wasn’t the best place for a _king_ to be having urges like that. And today, Ben was clearly distracted, to judge by the way that he simply let it slide.

“Do you want to meet her?” he said.

“Yeah.” There was only the slightest crack in her voice.

“Well, then, we can, uh,” he got to his feet, Mal reluctantly letting her hand slip back out of his as he returned to his desk. He started rifling through his paperwork, grabbing a pen in passing and put it between his teeth, then going back to searching. Finally, he withdrew a roll of paper that would actually do for scrolls and rolled letters, and took proper hold of the pen again. “There we go. We can put together a letter and arrange a time–”

Mal _felt_ the magic in the air, just an instant before the raven erupted into a plume of green smoke. It coalesced upwards, a human-height column, and Mal leapt to her feet with her heart pounding as it faded away again to reveal a young woman standing there.

She didn’t look like anything unusual, at first. She had long dark hair, olive-toned skin, and was wearing simple, slightly scruffy, black and brown clothes. Black leather jacket. A heavy rucksack slid from one shoulder to thud against the floor as she looked Mal up and down, breathing fast and trembling.

Then she met Mal’s eyes, properly. Green fire flared in her gaze, and Mal felt her own magic flare back in recognition.

“Lily?” she said.

The woman just nodded.

“You look… human.”

“I got used to staying under the glamours,” said Lily. “But I guess it’s the easiest way to prove I am gwyll, so…”

She shrugged off her jacket, then her soft plaid shirt, revealing a halter-necked top beneath. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, and green smoke swirled up around her a second time, shrouding her, and Mal fought to calm her racing heart in the seconds that it bought her.

Then the smoke faded away, and Lily stood before her again. But this time, the unmistakeable feathered wings burst from her back, clawed thumb above the level of her head, primary feathers falling to the level of her knees. She did not have the horns, was not mature enough in fairy years for that, but her ears were pointed and her cheekbones were even sharper beneath her skin.

Part of Mal could not help but wonder whether _she_ would have looked like that, as well, if she had been born in Auradon with its magic and not beneath the locks of the Isle.

“I’m honoured to finally meet you,” Lily said, though her words still seemed careful. “Not just because you’re my sister but… because you helped to given the children of the villains another chance.”

“Could have done with a bit more warning,” Mal admitted. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, her tongue feeling thick in her mouth. Though she wasn’t sure how much warning would be appropriate for finding out that she had a _sister_.

That she was not so alone, a gwyll in Auradon among any number of sidhe and other forms of ‘good’ fairies, as she had thought.

“King Ben,” said Lily, turning her gaze on him, and Mal wondered whether it was at least in part to give her a moment to catch herself. Evie stood close enough to Mal to hide the squeeze of her hand again, although doubtless Lily had seen plenty while she had been watching from her raven form. “I apologise for the… unusual visit. I just wanted to be sure how you reacted.”

He nodded, slow and stately. “You worried that we might attempt to trap you. I understand. And while you are in my office, at least, I can offer you diplomatic immunity which means… you can use magic as you wish.”

Lily smiled, and the flash of teeth in it reminded Mal for a brilliant, terrible moment of her mother. _Their_ mother. Her eyes traced upwards again, to the powerful hooked claws of Lily’s wings, the rich weight of them in the air. They smelled of magic.

“After I turned into a dragon in front of half the royalty of Auradon, I would hope so,” said Mal, gathering herself at least a little again. She knew that, more and more, the laws about magic were straining at the edges just from having her in the court, as if they had been strained almost to breaking point already and she had just been the last drop of magic that was starting to split it open. She looked back to Lily. “But he means it.”

“Do you not agree with your father’s laws?” Lily raised an eyebrow.

Ben cleared his throat, carefully, and for a moment looked like a shuffling, embarrassed boy again. “I’m… reviewing my father’s policies regarding some aspects of Auradon. It’s a gradual process.”

“We’re working on things,” said Mal. She took Ben’s hand, and he gave her a fond, grateful look. It was not always easy, trying to get the balance of allowing magic out into the world while stopping it from taking over.

Mal, of all people, knew how easy it could be to let magic take over.

“I’m guessing you’ll want to stay a while,” said Ben. “I imagine you’ve… got some catching up to do.” His thumb brushed over Mal’s knuckles. “I’ll talk to Fairy Godmother. Explain… the situation. And head it off from getting any worse.”

Most of the time it could be annoying for your boyfriend to be the King. But sometimes, Mal was really, really grateful for it.

 

 

 

 

 

Lily walked slowly around the room, admiring the bed, the half-made dresses of Evie’s standing diaphanous and glowing in the sunlight, the heavy textbook and piles of notes. Even back under her glamours, looking human to avoid too many strange looks as they walked through the halls, she was striking. To Mal, at least. Her backpack sat beside Mal’s bed, and Mal’s fingers itched to go through it, to seek the sources of the magic that she could all but smell in the air still, while her leather jacket hung behind the door.

A sister. A sister who looked like a gwyll and knew magic, who had wings on her back and what sounded suspiciously like heavy magical books in her bag. It took Mal a moment to place the giddiness in her chest as being the eagerness to please, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it even when she did.

Lily stopped in front of the terrarium, bending down to place her hands on her knees, and Mal saw the reflected green flash of her eyes in the glass. Then she laughed, and straightened up.

“Wow. All those years spent become Mistress of All Evil, Last of the Gwyll, Defender of the Moors… and you end up like this.” She cocked her head. “Sorry that we had to meet this way, mother.”

“She, uh, doesn’t understand very much nowadays,” said Mal. “I think that spending longer and longer as a lizard…”

Lily was nodding before she even had to finish. “Sounds about right. The more time I spend as a raven, the more like a raven I feel. Though they’re _smart_ birds, at least.”

Beside Mal, Evie glanced at her watch. “End of class is coming up soon. Do you want me to go and get Jay and Carlos?”

It was a clear offer: to give Mal time alone with this newfound sister, then to bring the rest of their core four back to meet her. Mal could say there was no need, and keep Evie beside her as a source of strength; she could say that Evie could text instead, on the phones that Ben had bought them; but instead, she nodded, and with one last squeeze of her arm Evie stepped away.

“Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

Lily watched her go, and Mal’s hackles rose at the calculating edge to her gaze but at least could not see the malice there in the way that she had always seen it in her mother. “Your girlfriend,” said Lily, as the door closed behind Evie and the room fell quiet again. There wasn’t any question in it.

She hadn’t grown up on the Isle of the Lost, Mal reminded herself. She had no reason to use relationships as a weapon. But then again, Mal did not know what ways of life Lily might have learned, how much of their shared gwyllion nature might have affected her.

“She’s cute,” Lily said, approvingly, and Mal let out her breath slowly. “That’s good. I worried that you’d be alone here.”

“You worried about me?” Mal raised an eyebrow.

“You’re my little sister. I’m pretty sure that’s my job.”

There was enough wry humour to her voice for Mal to allow herself to chuckle as well, and shake her head. “Sure. But you… really didn’t meet our mother?” The humour faded from her voice again. “At all?”

Lily shrugged, still looking around them. “I mean, I don’t remember anything before I was about two or three. But when I was seventeen or eighteen, something like that, I managed to sneak into the old lands that she used to keep, and performed a spell there to see what had happened in the past. It showed me. And I mean, it’s not like pictures of her are hard to come across.”

“There’s a statue in the museum.”

“I’ve seen it.”

Everything that they had expected Mal to be. Everything that Mal had expected _herself_ to be, until Auradon had made her see that there were other ways.

“Guess that fairy really freaked out when she realised you were a gwyll, huh?”

Lily snorted, the sort of laugh that came from when you had to laugh at something to stop it from hurting too badly. “Oh yeah. Turned white as a sheet, started unfurling her wings looking to fly away. Didn’t help that I kind of blew out the wall when I put it all together and ran.”

“You blew out a wall?” she couldn’t help sounding as impressed as she felt.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t manage that even when I was a dragon.”

“I’ve not dared try that transformation,” said Lily. She sounded almost wistful. “Dragons are way too easy for them to track. They’d have found me.”

“I wasn’t really trying. It just sort of… happened.”

Being faced by a cecaelia, especially one trying to overturn your boat and kill your friends and loved ones, had that sort of effect.

“Do you do magic, then?” said Lily. Another sharp tilt of her head, and Mal finally recognised it, a little bit of bird left over in her movements. “The way you spoke to King Ben…”

“Sometimes. Not too often,” said Mal. She saw the dubiousness in Lily’s gaze. “Believe me, I _did_ do it too often, and it went really wrong. But I’m working with Ben on relaxing the laws to allow small uses of magic. Things that can help people, or make life easier for them.” She sat down on Evie’s bed, and nodded towards her own in a way that she hoped communicated that Lily was free to sit down as well. “Why didn’t you go to Starlight Valley? It’s still fae-run, it declared itself a micronation after the dome was put up.”

Another secret well-kept from the Isle. The idea that fairies and other magical creatures might not all be happy with Auradon’s laws, might want to set up their own city where they use their magic still… well. It would have given the Isle _ideas_ , and Lucifer knew they had enough of those on their own.

“They might consider themselves a micronation, but it’s precarious,” said Lily. She sat down as well, then grimaced at the softness of the bed. Mal knew that feeling, too. “If King Beast had found out I was there, I wouldn’t have stood a chance. Besides, that first fairy told me how other fairies feel about gwyllion.”

“True.”

It had been Jane, in another one of her fits of honesty, that had told Mal about Starlight Valley. And who had admitted to Mal that even within the vale, while _most_ magical beings were free to come and go as they pleased, there were some types of fairy, some types of creature, that were not welcome. Knowing who Mal was might have made it better, might have made it worse.

“There are laws that specifically apply to them, you know,” Lily added. “Although I suspect that as only _half_ -gwyll, you were able to sneak by them.”

Mal narrowed her eyes. “What makes you think that I’m only half?”

“Our mother was the last, so your father must have been one of the humans from the Isle. Or… well, I suppose there are others who aren’t human. But they also aren’t gwyll.”

“But if our mother was the last, then you shouldn’t be full gwyll, either,” she replied.

“No, but he was part-fairy. Didn’t know what sort, but it was definitely in him. Which makes me over fifty percent – and by fairy laws, if you’re more than half fairy, you’re all fairy. Those laws are older than Auradon.” She wrinkled her nose. “Even I can’t blame King Beast for those.”

“Well, _Former_ King Beast can’t overrule current King Ben,” said Mal. “And Ben has extended your welcome to the school. Besides,” she gave a shrug that looked airier than it felt. “If you need to escape, I’ll make you a distraction.”

“Good to know.”

Evil, she hoped that it was not going to have to come to that. She was still not sure what she felt, still half-fascinated and half-afraid of what Lily might think of her, of what she might think of Lily. But if it came to it, and Lily needed a way to run again, Mal would throw everything into making sure that she could.

“So how did you learn your magic?” said Lily. “It can’t have been on the Isle.”

“Mother’s book of spells.” She wasn’t sure whether or not the prickle of pride down her spine was fair, but could not help it anyway. “When they transported her to the Isle, they did it with everything still on her. She hid it among her robes.”

Lily flicked her hand, and her backpack rose into the air a few inches and flew gracefully round to set itself at her feet and flick open. And _that_ was the magic that Mal wanted, not the big things or the fake things, just little time-savers and nothings. She reminded herself that for all she wanted it, she did not _need_ it, and Fairy Godmother stressed that if magic _was_ going to be used then it should be a matter of _need_ and not of _want_.

“Probably because these are a bit harder to hide,” she replied.

There was a triumphant tone in her voice, one that Mal recognised well. She had used it herself, so often that it ached. But it was justified, Lucifer it was justified, when she withdrew from her back a huge tome, bound in heavy night-black leather and clasped in silver, the pages thick and old and yellowed. And her mother’s spellbook had been little more than a notebook, but this needed the word _tome_.

“It’s not just a spellbook,” Lily said, a ripple of excitement in her voice. Mal found herself wondering, almost insidiously, whether Lily had ever been able to say this to someone before. “It’s a study of magical plants, animals, where to find ones that even most other _fairies_ think are extinct. There’s another, a history of gwyllion, written in ink that’s only visible to us. Others. Magic is so much more than spells, Mal.”

“How long have you been waiting to say that to me?” Mal almost expected it to come out sharp, but found herself feeling more than a little pity. There was not callous manipulation in Lily’s eyes, or cold power-hunger; there was warmth, enthusiasm. The look of finding out that you were not as alone as you thought.

Lily glanced down at her hands again, suddenly not looking all that much older than Mal. “Since I found out about you,” she said. “I hoped that you’d understand magic that way, too.”

There were careful clauses about magic, to maintain the balance of the Kingdoms. Agrabah had dispensations for genies, since they came from a very different branch of magic than fae, worked very differently. Arendelle had refused to join the United States of Auradon at all thanks to the anti-magic laws, and Queen Elsa had made it clear that she would accept any magic-user who wanted somewhere to stay, so long as their magic did not affect Auradon. With her daughter and heir born with ice magic as well, that looked unlikely to change.

And then there was Atlantis, but _their_ magic was something so alien that it barely looked like magic at all, and even King Beast was not foolish enough to think that he could challenge their laws. Queen Kida and Prince Consort Milo had returned Atlantis to its power, decades ago, after millennia in darkness. Ben had admitted to Mal that not long after becoming King, he had met with the rulers of Atlantis, and Queen Kida had told him in no uncertain terms that she would see the seat of power in Auradon overturned again before she allowed him to attempt to take Atlantis’s light away.

On hearing the story, Mal had decided that she quite liked the sound of Queen Kida.

And then, of course, there was Starlight Valley, a defiant micronation, half of them like migrants and half of them like refugees, as angry as any of the Isle children. Perhaps it was a good thing that twenty years was such a short time to fairies; given a full generation, they too would likely have become dangerous.

“Where did you find them?” said Mal.

“Ruins. Ancient sites. Sometimes just pages, which needed binding back together again. There’s one or two which still aren’t complete.”

“They’ll want them confiscated,” said Mal, and was not at all surprised when Lily looked up with a flash of green in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t let them.” She mulled her options. “If all else fails, we’ll send them to Atlantis – at least they’ll be safe there until I can lean on Ben to change the law. But if there’s one thing that Queen Belle has done, it’s been to make sure that magical texts have only been held by the government, not completely destroyed.”

Oh, yes. She had heard about that, as well. That King Beast had wanted magical documents and texts destroyed, but Queen Belle had intervened and had them funnelled into the hands of the other fairies instead. It wasn’t ideal, in Mal’s opinion, but it was a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

(That night, she had dreamed of fire, of magical books screaming as they burned, and had awoken with her heart pounding in her chest and fury curling in her fingertips.)

All the same, Lily’s lip curled in annoyance.

“Or…” Mal dragged out the word, as the thought occurred to her. “Ben could probably do with an expert on the so-called ‘dark fairies’ that still exist. Say, someone who could read their language.”

Lily’s eyes seemed to flash again, but this time there was not a flare of magic behind it, just the way that they widened and the way that shock spread across her face. She paused for a moment, then gave a breathless, shocked laugh.

“You really think that would work?” she said. “I’ve slept in garages and barns and fields, Mal. I’ve dumpster dived. I’ve been on the run since I was fourteen years old, and I’m not sure if I even know how to live in one place. Let alone a place like this.”

“You’ve heard about the Isle, right?” Mal replied. “I’ve read what they say, on the Auradon. And trust me, they don’t tell the half of it.”

She let the words sink in, let Lily’s gaze trace over her. Sure, she was dressed in good clothes now, but they were still made by Evie just the same as they had always been. She had good shampoo for her hair, good food to eat, had even been prompted by Ben to go to the dentist and was now pretty sure that villains _did_ still exist in Auradon, but had just gone into dentistry.

But while you could take the kids out of the Isle, you couldn’t take the memories of the Isle out of the kids.

“We managed it,” she said, somewhere to a promise. “Not that we’re quiet used to things like the soft beds yet but, you know, at least the blankets are decent if you want to pull them onto the floor instead.”

Auradon blankets on the floor could be more comfortable than beds on the Isle, without feeling like _too much_. It helped, sometimes, when the night turned dark around them and it was still impossible to get to sleep.

“Sounds like you know a thing or two about adapting,” said Lily. Even with the glamour, there were shadows beneath her eyes, and a tiredness in her voice.

“Sounds like you know a thing or two about magic,” Mal replied. “How about we trade?”

Lily smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Besides,” Mal added, knowing even as she did so that she was pushing against the bounds of what they had said, and against the power of magic beneath her skin and her heart still feeling like she was running. “It’s what sisters do, right?”

“I think I’d like that, as well.”


End file.
